Old English Libraries, The Making, Collection, and Use of Books
E >>
Ernest A. Savage >> Old English Libraries, The Making, Collection, and Use of Books
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 | 17
Section VI
What was the extent of circulation of books during the
manuscript age? For the period before the Conquest we
can only offer the merest conjecture, which does not help
us materially. The rarity of the extant manuscripts of
this age is no guide to the extent of their production.
During the raids of the northmen the destruction and loss
must have been very great indeed. After the Conquest
the indifference and contempt with which the conquerors
regarded everything Saxon must have been responsible for
the destruction of nearly every manuscript written in the
vernacular. But, on the other hand, we find suggestions of
a greater production than is commonly credited to this
period. Religious fervour to make books was not wanting,
as some of our most beautiful relics--works exhibiting
much painstaking and skilful and even loving labour,
calligraphy, and decoration aflame with high endeavour--
belong to the Hiberno-Saxon period and the days of
Ethelwold. Nor after Alfred's day was regard lacking
for vernacular literature itself rather than for the glory of
a faith: how else are we to explain the precious fragments
of Anglo-Saxon manuscript which have been preserved for
us, especially the Exeter book and the Vercelli book? That
the production was considerable is suggested by the records
we have. Think of the Irish manuscripts now scattered
on the continent; of the library of York; of Bede's workshop
and the northern libraries; and of those in the south,
at Canterbury, Malmesbury, and elsewhere. But the use of
such manuscripts as were in existence was restricted to
monks, wealthy ecclesiastics, and a few of the wealthy
laity.
After the Conquest the state of affairs was the same.
The period of the greatest literary activity in the monasteries
now began, and large claustral libraries were soon formed.
The monks then had plenty of books; wealthy clergy also
had small collections. An ecclesiastic or a layman who
had done a monastery some service, or whose favour it was
politic to cultivate, could borrow books from the monastic
library, under certain strict conditions. Some people
availed themselves of this privilege; but not at any time
during the manuscript period to a great extent.[1]
[1] Bateson x.; Gasquet 4, 30-31; James (M. R.), 148.
Outside this small circle the people were almost bookless:
nearly the whole of the literary wealth of the Middle
Ages belonged to the monks and the church. Books were
extremely costly. The medieval book-buyer paid more for
his book on an average than does the modern collector of
first editions and editions de luxe, who pays in addition
several guineas a volume for handsome bindings. The prices
we have tabulated will fully bear out this statement. But
even more striking evidence of the high value set upon
books is the care taken in selling or bequeathing them.
To-day a line or two in a wealthy man's will disposes of
all his books. He commonly throws them in with the
"residue," unmentioned. In the manuscript age a testator
distributed his little hoard book by book. Often he not
only bequeaths a volume to a friend, but determines its fate
after his friend's death. For example, a daughter is to
have a copy of the Golden Legend, "and to occupye to hir
owne use and at hir owne liberte durynge hur lyfe, and after
hur decesse to remayne to the prioress and the convent of
Halywelle for evermore, they to pray for the said John
Burton and Johne his wife and alle crystene soyles (1460)."[1]
A manuscript now in Worcester Cathedral Library bears
an inscription telling us that, likewise, one Thomas Jolyffe left
it to Dr. Isack, a monk of Worcester, for his lifetime, and after
his death to Worcester Priory. A manuscript now in the British
Museum was bought in 1473 at Oxford by Clement of Canterbury,
monk and scholar, from a bookseller named Hunt for twenty
shillings, in the presence of Will. Westgate, monk.[2] In a
manuscript of the Sentences is a note telling us that it was
the property of Roger, archdeacon of Lincoln: he bought
it from Geoffrey the chaplain, the brother of Henry, vicar of
North Elkington, the witnesses being master Robert de Luda,
clerk, Richard the almoner, the said Henry the vicar, his
clerk, and others.[3] An instance of a different kind will
suffice. When, after a good deal of rioting at Oxford,
many of the more studious masters and scholars went to
Stamford, the king threatened that if they did not return
to Oxford they would lose their goods, and especially their
books. The warning was disregarded, but the threatened
forfeiture of their books was evidently thought to be a strong
measure.[4]
[1] Written at the end of the manuscript, which is in the Douce
collection.-- Warton, i. 182-83.
[2] MS. gurney, II; James (M.R.), 515.
[3] B. M. MS. Reg., 9 B ix. I.
[4] Lyte, 135
In his poems Chaucer endows two poor clerks with
small libraries. His first portrait of an Oxford clerk is
delightful--
"For him was lever have at his beddes heed [rather]
Twenty bokes, clad in blak or reed,
Of Aristotle and his philosophye,
Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrye [fiddle, psaltery].
But al be that he was a philosophre,
Yet hadde he but liter gold in cofre;
But al that he mighte of his freendes hente [get],
On bokes and on lerninge he it spente,
And bisily gan for the soules preye
Of hem that yaf him wherewith to scoleye [gave, study].
Of studie took he most cure and most hede.
Noght o word spak he more than was nede,
And that was seyd in forme and reverence,
And short and quik, and ful of hy sentence [high].
Souninge in moral vertu was his speche [conducing to],
And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche."
Almost equally pleasing is his picture of another who
lived with a rich churl--
"A chambre hadde he in that hostelrye
Allone, with-outer any companye,
. . . . . . . .
His Almageste and bokes grete and smale,
His astrelabie, longinge for his art,
His augrim-stones layen faire a-part
On shelves couched at his beddes heed."
Both descriptions have been used as evidence that books
were not so scarce as supposed; that poor people could
get books if they specially needed them. But are these
pictures quite true? Has not the poet taken advantage of
the licence allowed to his kind? The records preserved at
Oxford do not corroborate him. Some of the students were
very poor. It seems likely that a would-be clerk attached
himself to a master or scholar as a servant in return for
teaching in the "kunnyng of writyng" and perhaps other
knowledge--
"This endenture bereth witnesse that I, John Swanne, the sone
of John Swanne of Bridlington, in the counte of Yorke, have putte
me servante unto William Osbarne, forto serve him undir the
foorme of a servante for te terme of iiii. yere, and the seide
William Osbarne forto enfoorme the seide John Swann in the
kunnyng of writyng, and the seide John Swann forto have the first
yere of te seide William Osbarne iijs. iiijd. in money, and ij.
peter [pairs] of hosen, and ij. scherts [shirts] and iiij. peire
schoon [pairs of shoes], and a gowne, and in the secunde yeere
xiijs. iiijd., and in the iij. yere xxs. and a gowne, and in the
iiij. yeere xls. And in the witnesse hereof, etc." (1456).[1]
[1] Mun. Acad., 665. Cf. p. 661.
Mr. Anstey points out that a very large number,
probably the majority of scholars, were not well provided
for. They eked out their precarious allowances by begging,
by learning handicrafts, and by "picking up the various
doles at funerals and commemoration masses, where such
needy miserables were always to be found."[1] Such students
would not be likely to have many or perhaps any books.
"The stock of books possessed by the YOUNGER scholars seems
to have been almost nil. The inventories of goods, which we
possess, in the case of non-graduates contain hardly any
books. The fact is that they mostly could not afford to
buy them.... The chief source of supplying books was by
purchase from the University sworn stationers, who had to
a great extent a monopoly, the object of which was to
prevent the sale and removal from Oxford of valuable
books. Of such books there were plainly very large
numbers constantly changing hands; they were the pledges
so continually deposited on borrowing from chests, and
seem, from scattered hints, to have been a very fruitful
source of litigation and dispute."[2] Most of these books
were in the hands of seniors. Truly enough many a
poor clerk would as lief have twenty "bokes" to his name
as anything else treble the value. But he would undergo
much sharp self-denial and receive much "wherewith to
scoleye" ere he got together so considerable a collection of
"bokes grete and smale," to say nothing of instruments.
As such a large proportion of the scholars were poor, and
unable to acquire books, nearly all the instruction given
was oral. Well-to-do scholars would not find, therefore,
books of very great service; and indeed they were as ill-
equipped in this respect as their poorer brethren. The
accounts of the La Fytes, two scholars whose expenses
were paid by Edward I himself, contain records of the
purchase of two copies of only the Institutions of Quintilian
(c. 1290).[3] Is not Chaucer describing his own room in
both passages--the room he loved to seek after his day's
work at the desk? Here at the bedhead are his books,
including the astronomical treatise of Ptolemy called
Almagest. Beside them is the astrolabe, an instrument
about which he wrote; and trimly arranged apart his
augrim-stones, or counters for making calculations. Such
an outfit we might expect him to have: just such a library,
neither smaller nor larger.
[1] Mun. Acad., ci.
[2] Mun. Acad., lxxvii.
[3] Lyte, 93.
This supposition calls to mind another argument sometimes
used to prove how easy it was to make a small
collection of books. Chaucer's poems display his acquaintance,
more or less thoroughly, with many authors. Surely,
it is urged, his library was a good one for the time: then
how was it possible for a man of his means to own such?
He was not wealthy. As a courtier and a public officer
the calls upon his purse must have been heavy: little indeed
could be left for books. The explanation is probably
simple. Books were freely lent, more freely than
nowadays; and Chaucer would be able to eke out his
library in this way. Another point is important. Professor
Lounsbury, who has spent years in an exhaustive
study of Chaucer, points out a curious circumstance. "It
must be confessed," he says--a shade of disparagement
lurks in the phrase--"it must be confessed that Chaucer's
quotations from writers exhibit a familiarity with prologues
and first books and early chapters which contrasts ominously
with the comparative infrequency with which he makes
citations from the middle and latter parts of most of the
works he mentions."[1] Surely the implication is unjust.
Stationers used to let out on hire parts of books or quires.
Manuscript volumes were also often made up of parts of
works by several authors. Books being scarce, it was
preferable to make some volumes select miscellanies, little
libraries in themselves. Hear Chaucer himself--
"And eek ther was som-tyme a clerk at Rome,
A cardinal, that highte Seinte Jerome,
That made a book agayn Jovinian;
In whiche book eek ther was Tertulan,
Crisippus, Trotula, and Helowys,
That was abbesse net fer fro Parys;
And eek the Parables of Salomon,
Ovydes Art, and bokes many on,
And alle thise were bounder in o volume."[2]
[1] Lounsbury, Studies in Chaucer, ii. 265.
[2] Wife of Bath's Prologue, ll. 673-81.
In composite volumes often only the earlier parts of
authors' works were included. If Chaucer owned a few
books of this kind, his familiarity with parts of authors--
and oftenest with the earlier parts--is accounted for
satisfactorily; so also is the range and variety of his
reading. Examine the Christ Church Canterbury catalogue
in Henry Eastry's time, and note what a remarkable
variety of subjects is comprised in what we nowadays
consider rather a paltry number of books. There is
another point worth bearing in mind. Speaking of Bishop
Shirwood's books, a writer in the English Historical Review
says: "Many of the books bear his mark, Nota, scattered
over the margins, or a hand with a long pointing finger.
These notes occur usually at the beginnings. In the days
when chapters and sections were unknown and division
into books rare, when headlines were not and pages sometimes
had no signatures even, not to speak of numbers, a
reader had to go solidly through a book, and could not
lightly turn up a passage he wished for, by the aid of a
referenre. But except in Cicero and in Plutarch--which is
read almost from beginning to end--the marks do not
often go far. Shirwood was doubtless too busy to find
much time for reading, and before he had made much way
with a book a new purchase had come to arouse his
interest."[1]
[1] E. H. R., XXV. 453.
But to the general rule of scarcity of books some
exceptions are known. When a book won a reputation,
the cost of producing copies was not wholly restrictive of
circulation. Copies of some works of the Fathers were
produced in great numbers. The Bible, whole or in part,
was copied with such industry that it became the commonest
of manuscripts, as it now is the commonest of printed
books. Peter Lombard's Sentences became a famous book:
the standard of the schools; everywhere to be found side
by side with the Bible, everywhere discussed and commented upon.
A twelfth century author of quite different character had a good
hold upon the people; the number of copies of Geoffrey of
Monmouth must have been considerable, for the British Museum now
has thirty-five copies and Bodley's Library sixteen. "Possibly,
no work before the age of printed books attained such immediate
and astonishing popularity . . . translations, adaptations,
and continuations of it formed one of the staple exercises
of a host of medieval scribes."[1] A glance at the monastic
and academic library catalogues of later date than mid-
thirteenth century will prove more clearly than a shelf full
of books how enormous was the influence of Aristotle. If
such a collocation as the Bible and Shakspere sums up the
present-day Englishman's ideals of spiritual sustenance and
literary power, a similar collocation of the Bible and
Aristotle would sum up, with a greater approach to truth,
the ideals of the medieval schoolman. Popularity fell to
Piers Plowman. Apart from the large currency given to it
by ballad singers, many manuscripts were in existence, for
even now forty-five of them, more or less complete, remain.
As M. Jusserand aptly remarks: "This figure is the more
remarkable when we consider that, contrary to works written
in Latin or in French, Langland's book was not copied
and preserved outside his own country."[2] Again, but a
few years after the writing of the Canterbury Tales, a copy
of it was bequeathed, among other books, by a clerk named
Richard Sotheworth of East Hendred, Berks (1417).[3]
The impression is left upon one's mind that this work had
found its way quickly and in many copies into country
places.
[1] Camb. Lit., i. 262.
[2] Piers Plowman, 186.
[3] "Quendam libru' meu' de Canterbury Tales."--N. & Q., II ser.
ii. 26.
But as only a few books had a comparatively large
circulation, these few had a disproportionately powerful
influence. The Bible was paramount. Aristotle dominated
the whole mental horizon of the schoolmen. Alfred of
Beverley tells us that Geoffrey of Monmouth's book "was so
universally talked of that to confess ignorance of its stories
was the mark of a clown."[1] So great was the influence of
Piers Plowman, that from it were taken watchwords at the
great rising of the peasants.[2] The power of such works
could not be wholly hemmed in by the barrier of manuscript:
like a spring torrent it would burst forth and carry
all before it. In the manuscript period a book of great
originality and power, or a work which reproduced the
thought of the time accurately and with spirit, ran no
great risk of being passed over and forgotten; too little
was produced for much that was good to be lost. It was
copied once and again; became very slowly but very
surely known to a few, then to many; and all the time
waxed more and more influential in its teaching. The
growth was slow, but then the lifetime was long. Now
the chance of a good book going astray is much greater
What watcher of the great procession of modern books
does not fear that something supremely fine and great has
passed unobserved in the huge, motley crowd?
[1] Camb. Lit., i. 262.
[2] Jusserand, Piers, 13.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 | 17